a little bunch of notes representing the amount;
they had been deposited with a notary, or perhaps at the bank, or in
some safe hiding-place. Following out her train of thought, it was
evident that M. de Restaud must of necessity have some kind of document
in his possession by which any remaining property could be recovered and
handed over to his son.

"So she made up her mind to keep the strictest possible watch over the
sick-room. She ruled despotically in the house, and everything in it
was submitted to this feminine espionage. All day she sat in the salon
adjoining her husband's room, so that she could hear every syllable that
he uttered, every least movement that he made. She had a bed put there
for her of a night, but she did not sleep very much. The doctor was
entirely in her interests. Such wifely devotion seemed praiseworthy
enough. With the natural subtlety of perfidy, she took care to disguise
M. de Restaud's repugnance for her, and feigned distress so perfectly
that she gained a sort of celebrity. Strait-laced women were even found
to say that she had expiated her sins. Always before her eyes she
beheld a vision of the destitution to follow on the Count's death if her
presence of mind should fail her; and in these ways the wife, repulsed
from the bed of pain on which her husband lay and groaned, had drawn
a charmed circle round about it. So near, yet kept at a distance;
all-powerful, but in disgrace, the apparently devoted wife was lying
in wait for death and opportunity; crouching like the ant-lion at the
bottom of his spiral pit, ever on the watch for the prey that cannot
escape, listening to the fall of every grain of sand.

"The strictest censor could not but recognize that the Countess pushed
maternal sentiment to the last degree. Her father's death had been a
lesson to her, people said. She worshiped her children. They were so
young that she could hide the disorders of her life from their eyes,
and could win their love; she had given them the best and most brilliant
education. I confess that I cannot help admiring her and feeling sorry
for her. Gobseck used to joke me about it. Just about that time she had
discovered Maxime's baseness, and was expiating the sins of the past in
tears of blood. I was sure of it. Hateful as were the measures which
she took for regaining control of her husband's money, were they not
the result of a mother's love, and a desire to repair the wrongs she
had done her children